


even a lion must know fear

by ninemoons42



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition - Kiriya - Original Flavor [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Injuries, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen learns that Kiriya's gone out on her own, and he can't stop worrying about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even a lion must know fear

“Take these up to the rookery and send them on to their destinations,” Cullen muttered, pointing to a pile of finished letters, “and have someone send on the updated guard rosters.”

“Yes, Ser,” was the muffled reply, followed by the tromp of boots headed away from his desk.

Lists, lists, and more lists. Strange movements in the vicinity of Griffon Wing Keep. Requisitions from Dennet and the others overseeing the Inquisition’s forces. Names and numbers and needs -- and when Cullen closed his eyes he could still see the little letters and numbers on his eyelids, tirelessly marching, growing longer and longer and -- 

He cast around for another paperweight and came up with nothing but an empty ink bottle. Now he, too, would have to replenish some of his own supplies. With a groan he pushed away from his desk and climbed to his feet -- he groaned, softly, as his body made its displeasure at sitting since sunrise plain -- and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed to the door of his office.

A ragged hat-brim. Frayed sleeves. A basket of bandages? Cullen blinked, and stared at a familiar frown. “Cole?”

“Hello, Commander -- no, I remember, you prefer to be called by your name. Too many people know only your title, or your past. You prefer to be known as you. As you are now.”

Cullen blinked again. Stared at Cole. Said, “Thank you.” And, “Is something the matter?”

A brief bobbing nod. “I had a question to ask. But now there’s something else. Heavy load, hard road. Danger at their backs. Wasn’t expecting _her_.” Cole blinked, and then added, “Healer. Need a healer. Gates.”

Movement caught the corner of Cullen’s eye and he wheeled around to see one of the scouts; he beckoned her over and said, “Find Dorian and have him meet me at the gates.

“Tell me, Cole, does this have anything to do -- ” 

He was alone on the battlements.

There was nothing for it but to hasten towards the gates of Skyhold -- and he was more than halfway across the great courtyard when he heard a familiar voice calling to him. “I take it,” Dorian said as Cullen slowed to let him catch up, “I take it we’ve more pilgrims coming?”

“Cole mentioned danger, but -- he might have neglected to give me specifics,” Cullen said as they took several paces past the open gates. 

“He does tend to do that,” Dorian sniffed -- but Cullen glanced at him and recognized the affectionate glint in the other man’s eyes. 

“Cole also mentioned a woman,” and Cullen rested his hands atop the pommel of his sword.

Dorian’s response to that was a quiet snort. “That could mean _anyone_.”

Dappled sunlight on the road and a cloud-spackled sky above, and Cullen strained his eyes.

And then -- suddenly -- “I think I hear something,” Dorian said, softly, and Cullen couldn’t blame him for dropping into a battle stance.

“Slow steps. They know the rock and they know the way.”

Cullen took a step forward, hand out to Cole. “Wait -- ”

Dorian sighed, softly, and said, “Well come on, he’s not going to wait for us.”

“I’m going to regret this,” Cullen muttered as he started forward, trying to remember the twists and turns of the uphill road --

Only to stop in his tracks at a familiar lumbering sight. Brontos, three of them. They were laden down with all manner of bulky sacks, and Cullen could see flashes of brightness on their harnesses.

“Here, here,” called a feminine voice, “we need help!”

He followed the trailing hems of Dorian’s robes as they both rounded the long left-hand bend in the road. A cheerful-looking dwarven woman, her dark hair pulled away from her face in several braids. Three other dwarves accompanied her. Almost all of them wore ragged-looking boots.

“You’ve been walking for a while,” Dorian was saying as Cullen looked the newcomers over. He could see Cole smiling and patting the muzzle of the third bronto.

“We -- we wanted to come and help,” the dwarven woman said. “I’m Aelia. We’re miners. Everite and silverite mostly, and some few jewels, none too large but they might still be useful. When we heard that the Inquisition had come to Skyhold we thought we’d take everything we could and bring it all up -- can’t be easy to find certain materials around here.”

“I -- we’re quite thankful,” Cullen said, looking thoughtfully down the mountain road. “You’re more than welcome here.”

“You look like you had some trouble coming up,” Dorian said. “Some of your companions were wounded. And you’ve been running, haven’t you?”

“It was hard on the brontos,” Aelia admitted. “There was this red lion. It kept following us -- we had to stick together. Couldn’t sleep much. Couldn’t stay in one place for too long.” 

“Is it still on your trail?” Cullen asked.

Aelia smiled. “There was this -- this young woman. She came down to us last night. Shared our bread, brought us some wine. We told her about the lion and she said she’d see what she could do about it.”

Cullen frowned, and met Dorian’s gaze, and asked, very carefully, “This young woman you speak of -- she wouldn’t have been wearing black leathers by any chance?”

“The very thing,” Aelia said, beaming. “How did you know?”

And Dorian, damn him, started laughing softly. “We know who that woman is.”

Cole came up to them, then, smiling. “She’s all right. They all are.”

Cullen sighed. “I’m sure she is. But I’ll feel better once I can actually _see_ her.”

“I’ll take you up to the gates, Aelia,” Dorian said, “and I’m sure you’ll have to speak to a few more people, but I might as well say it: welcome to the Inquisition.”

“Thank you, ser, thank you.” 

Cullen watched Aelia’s caravan disappear around the bend in the road; he had to smile, too, when Cole laughed and leapt onto the back of the second bronto.

But as soon as he was alone he could only look back down the mountain and wait.

He’d never forgotten the first time he’d ever heard about red lions. How two of the damned predators had picked off three mages and the Templars escorting them, wearing them down night by night, too hideously fast to be targeted even with magic.

The thought of Kiriya facing off against _one_ red lion made his blood run cold in his veins.

He waited, and the clouds turned into somber gray, into long winding sheets, blocking out the blue of the sky.

He waited, and the leaves on the trees hung still and fearful, casting brooding shadows onto the road.

He waited, and he imagined the frantic flash of blades against wickedly long teeth, and dark fur spotted with crimson -- 

“Cullen?”

He blinked, and looked down the road again -- and before he could think better of it he was running, heedless of the armor he was wearing and the hitch in his throat, heedless of what he must look like if anyone from the Inquisition could still see him --

“Oof!”

“Kiriya!” he called, and he wasn’t expecting her to laugh --

Nor was he expecting her to be collapsed in a heap by the side of the road, alternating between smiling up at him and frowning down at her left knee.

Lying on the grass next to her was a magnificent pelt: lush russet fur striped in gray and black. The pelt of a red lion. Undoubtedly dead, now, and undoubtedly food for some other predator.

A large heap of fur.

He looked at the pelt, and looked at a suddenly-silent Kiriya: back and forth and again.

And then he reached for her shoulders, holding on to her, quietly insistent, quietly desperate. “You came back.”

A solemn nod. “I did.”

“Promise me something,” Cullen whispered. “Please, please promise me. In Andraste’s name.”

“I’m always going to be in danger,” Kiriya said, sadly. “As long as there’s this.” He watched her hold up her left hand. The Anchor glowed with steady light -- a stark contrast to the long scratches disappearing up her ragged sleeve.

“I’m not asking you to promise that -- you can’t stay out of danger -- Maker help us, we risk your life every time we send you out, don’t we?” Cullen rocked Kiriya gently, back and forth. “At least -- at least don’t be alone when you go out at night.”

“I only do it when I can’t sleep.” 

“I know. I understand. But -- wake me up. Wake Cassandra up. Or Sera. Promise me you’ll take someone with you. I -- the thought of you fighting worse things than this -- please don’t put me through that.”

“Cullen.” Kiriya said his name, softly, and leaned forward.

Her forehead against his chest -- he couldn’t stop himself from squeezing her shoulders again. He was only too grateful to respond when she kissed him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kiriya was whispering against his mouth. “I promise I won’t go out alone again.”

“Swear it,” Cullen muttered into her matted hair.

“I swear, Cullen. I swear it to you.”

“I’ll take the lion,” a soft voice said from nearby: and Cullen looked up, finding sympathy and gentleness on Cole’s face. “She needs you. And you need her.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said.

He lifted Kiriya into his arms, and began walking up the slope.

He blinked when she said his name: “Cullen.”

“Kiriya,” he whispered, as he carried her through the gates.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Only too gladly.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am also on [tumblr](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) and my Dragon Age: Inquisition blog is [here](http://ninemoons42-inquisition.tumblr.com/).


End file.
